Double Down
by Heligena
Summary: Our girls receive two very unexpected visitors one night who havean important message for them... One they definitely didn't see coming... It's SwanQueen people, that's pretty much all you need to know. Planned to be multi-chapter so we'll see what shakes out! Double the Evil Queen and double Saviours- what else could you want?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So I know there a whole shedload of stories like this at the moment, amazing fics I couldn't even begin to compete with but the idea just jumped into my head yesterday so I figured I'd put pen to paper. Why not, right? Anyways, there's more to come so please send me any thoughts/feedback you might have...like Britney Spears says I'm a fool for you!...**

She was tired.

Bone tired.

The kind of tired where it took effort to remember to breathe when you brushed your teeth before bed. The sort where it took more than muscle memory to remember to hold the trashy paperback open so your eyes had the chance to focus.

Not that either of those things were on the slate for tonight.

Doing two things at once was pretty much out of the question as Emma dragged her legs up the rickety, paint-cracked stairs and along the hallway to her room. She wasn't even sure why she was so drained, really. Sure, there had been a mountain of paper work on her desk and a flurry of phone calls lighting up the switchboard when this morning's storm had turned south west, taking all the homeowners on the edge of town by complete surprise but beyond a few splintered fences and reassuring chats there hadn't been anything majorly arduous to deal with.

Perhaps then, it was exactly that at the bottom of it.

The familiarity of the day. The routine.

The _monotony_.

Emma's head lolled to one side as she made it into her room and grabbing it by one sleeve slung her leather jacket onto the chair in the corner as she blew out a hot sigh.

Of course, there hadn't been much chance to complain about boredom since her and Henry had left their old apartment back in Boston. Exhaustion, yes.

An impressive amount of crazy rule-breaking by the newly homed lost boys that bordered on ridiculous… sure.

But not boredom.

Even with the decline in open hostility between the townspeople who'd stayed and those that had decided to go back to the Enchanted Forest….things had never been boring in Storybrooke.

Not until today.

For one thing Regina would never have allowed it.

Up until a year ago the woman had practically revelled in bad feeling, sowing seeds of ill will wherever she went as if she needed the stuff around her feet to be able to breathe.

_That isn't fair._

Emma growled in frustration at her conscience as she pulled her tee over her head. She was all too aware that Regina wasn't that person anymore; Hell, she hadn't even really been that way at all back then, she'd just been lonely... and hurt by Henry's constant rejections without being able to show either of those things to the outside world.

Without being able to take off the mask for fear it'd be too cracked to put back on.

If anyone could understand that it was a foster kid from the East Coast brought up on leftovers and government directives.

Emma slumped down onto her unmade bed as thoughts of tailored pant suits and pursed lips assaulted her vision.

Regina had actually been pretty...great lately if she really thought about it. Not exactly hugs and banoffee pie great but a little more open, a little less guarded around everyone since Cora and Zelena had been defeated. As if she'd laid to rest some of the blood ties that bound her to her past.

To her family.

If that was even the right word for the Freudian nightmare of her past.

She'd even cut down on her sniping recently, settling for the odd glare across the diner at dinner as if she was somehow skirting some kind of tentative peace inside herself. Not that she'd ever turn into a wall-flower or anything… and Emma supposed that went for the town she'd created too since it was basically an extension of her own mind.

The blonde let out a groan as she rolled her neck from one painful side to the other.

She knew she should stop thinking about Regina. Stop thinking about the odd hard earned smiles she'd managed to wheedle out of her when their magic lessons had gone well and she'd not blown anything up for two days straight. Stop thinking about the hand that had a tendency to skirt her back when she'd gotten too clumsy for her own good; not touching but protective nonetheless.

That was the Regina she knew, the one she…

The one she'd started to see emerging before she'd messed everything up by intervening in the natural timeline and saved a life. A life that meant nothing to her in any real sense but meant a world to a handful of others.

Robin.

And Regina.

With one knee-jerk moment she'd inadvertently caused Regina more pain than she ever deserved and everything had gone to shit.

A shiver ran through her spine at the memory, nipping at her vertebrae even though her logical mind knew that the Mayor was perfectly well and safe right now, tucked up in bed on Mifflin Street.

She'd done a lot of stupid hurtful things in her time, but none of them seemed to compare right now to the wounded look on Regina's face when she'd realised what Emma had done.

What she had stolen from her without a thought for the consequences.

That disbelieving expression seemed to float in front of her eyes wherever she went now. Blaming her with such familiar coffee coloured eyes that it made it hard to breathe.

And she had no excuses for her behaviour except that it 'had been the right thing to do.' Whatever the hell that meant.

It didn't feel like that now. At this particular moment it felt as if she was being punished for spending the last two years pretending to be something she wasn't. A saviour.

A child of good and righteousness.

All the fairytale bullshit printed in hardback and sold on bookshelves in the big cities.

The kind she'd laughed at during class.

_Jesus! Stop thinking so much!_

_Unless you want a migraine on top of everything else._

Pressing fingertips into her temples, Emma pulled her hair out its rough ponytail and let it fall untidily onto her shoulders before she rolled sideways across the bed, flicking off her boots as she did so; the earthy sound of them thocking onto the floor almost bringing a smile to her face.

Her back began grumbling in protest at the position but she didn't care.

She didn't care about anything. All she wanted was a night of uninterrupted sleep with no phone calls from a deputy, no grand designs from any nameless evil-doers wherever the hell they might be hiding out these days and definitely no guilty thoughts concerning the resident mayor of Storybrooke.

Just peace.

Stillness.

And so what if today had been more exhausting than it should have been? She was just antsy that was all, expecting the next barrage of mental-ness to hit town the way it always had. Waiting for it so there were no surprises.

That was habit, nothing more.

A pattern easily broken.

That was all.

Suddenly green eyes flicked open and the ceiling swung overhead for a moment.

_Christ, you're actually justifying your own behaviour to yourself now._

That was it; she was well and truly done for the freaking day. Pulling herself up for a moment, she rolled the jeans down her legs and pushed them over each ankle before slipping quickly into a grey NYU vest top and a pair of shorts. Then she ripped the duvet off one side of the bed and crawled in letting it drop on top of her once she was splayed out in the middle of the mattress.

_My bed, my rules _she thought grumpily burrowing face first into a soft pillow.

And that was the last thing she remembered as sleep began to kick in.

She didn't recall the first forty five minutes or so where she started out on her right side facing the door then sloppily rolled over to face the opposite way. She wasn't aware of turning so that she was lying on her back, a thin strand of blonde hair caught in the corner of her mouth as she breathed in.

She was lost in dreamless sleep, wrapping herself in its threads- muscles relaxed and limp.

Until something in the air of the room changed and cut through the tiredness bringing her back to consciousness in an instant.

Wild, green eyes snapped open as she lifted her head.

"Who's there?"

There was no reply as she held her breath, her body attuned to the muted creaks of the old house. Nothing. Nothing but silence as heavy as cloth.

Feeling her eyes begin to droop again, Emma scanned the darkness, watching it shift and slither in front of her.

Still nothing though.

_Just a mind collapsing in on itself..._

Drawing in a quiet breath, Emma blinked resignedly as Regina's face swam into her vision once more; at first warm and thankful. Then icy. Betrayed.

Flawless.

Her eyes closed of their own accord for a second although she tried to fight the weariness overtaking her. Forcing them to sweep the room again, she pierced the gloom as best she could despite the fact she couldn't make out much beyond the rigid square of the wardrobe near the window and the casual curve of the armchair.

The room was as it had been.

Not a thing out of place.

Letting out an inaudible sigh, Emma slumped down onto the pillow again and gathered the corners of the duvet in her fist.

"Really?! That's the best you can do? You're supposed to be this town's first line of defence aren't you?"

Jerking up wide awake now, Emma reached out a pale hand and grabbed the gun that was sitting in its holster hanging off the bedpost.

Cocking the trigger with her left hand she clicked the bedside light on, the barrel trained in the proximity of where the disembodied voice had sprung from.

"Identify yourself!" she yelled as her eyes struggled to absorb the light that seemed almost blinding after the darkness before.

"That's more like it."

The gun should have made her feel more secure. She knew _that_ deep down in the rational part of her brain, it always had even in her rookie days but somehow its weight didn't have the desired effect at this moment. Right now, it was all she could do to grip the damn thing and hold it eye level as if the metal it was made of had changed properties in the last few minutes into something mercurial and slippery.

It had to be the tiredness in her wrist muscles.

Or perhaps it was the fact that sitting cross legged at the end of her bed was the shape of a person so familiar to her that she couldn't quite process what she was seeing.

"Do I still need to identify myself or shall we get right down to it?"

Emma blinked, resisting the urge to lower her gun and wipe roughly at her eyes to see if she was hallucinating.

This couldn't be happening.

It was just fatigue. Fatigue induced hallucinations.

"It's not," was all the figure said tilting their head to one side. The gesture was so eerily familiar and the intonation in the voice so recognisable that she wasn't entirely sure she wasn't caught in the first throes of having a stroke.

"It's not what?" she stuttered.

"A hallucination from being tired."

"...How did you..."

"Or a dream from the three-cheese sandwich you snuck out of the vending machine before leaving."

Emma wrinkled her nose as she backed up against the headboard, nerves screaming.

"Are you..."

She was cut off again by a bored tone, "...No, I'm not a shape shifter, I'm not a Nephilim or a Banshee. And don't get me wrong, it's very cute that you took some time to research a few myths and legends over the last few weeks but I'm not any of the things that are running through your mind right now."

"How do you know what I've been doing; you've been watching me?"

The woman smiled a little in the low light. "I don't need to watch you Emma to know all the secret little things you get up to. You know that."

"Bullshit."

"And you're as eloquent as always."

Though her eyes never wavered Emma's hand unwrapped itself from the revolver for a moment as she reached out and pinched the thin skin of her forearm.

"Ow!"

Pain sang through her muscles.

"What are you five years old? Is this how dreams usually go for you?"

Emma tilted her chin up with a hard glint in her eye and an unamused smile building. "So I'm just supposed to believe that you're..."

Her voice trailed off but she couldn't quite bring herself to feel embarrassed about it with all the other chaotic thoughts tumbling about inside her mind.

"...You?"

Emma stared at the other woman. At the perfect copy of her own face, right down to the tiny scar above her left eye and frown lines at the centre of her forehead.

"Strange." She muttered.

The other Her raised an eyebrow and Emma offered a haughty shrug. "You look like me but not like me at the same time."

Her double seemed to take that in for a second, her body changing position as she leaned backwards transferring her weight to her arms.

"You know I read an article by some Professor who said that if we met a clone of ourselves that we probably wouldn't even recognise them. Because we never get to see ourselves face on, right? All we have are like mirror images and reproductions of ourselves."

Emma's eyes narrowed. "I don't read articles like that."

The other woman gave a snort. "You should. It might make situations like this a little easier to deal with."

Emma couldn't really argue with that.

"So... can we carry on without the red dot on my chest?"

Emma glanced at the other woman then at the gun she still held in front of her.

"It's not a sniper rifle."

The other Emma rolled her eyes. "It was a metaphor."

"For all I know you're a metaphor," she threw back.

Her counterpart couldn't contain a sigh at that.

"Fine. I've come to give you a message. So here it is." Her expression darkened immeasurably as she leaned forwards, her hair falling across her face. "All this is going to end. And it's going to be all your fault."

Emma's double crossed her arms as she stared into green horrified eyes.

"Now do you want to put down the gun?"

TBC...


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hey guys massive cheers for all the faves and follows. I'm having a lot of fun writing Emma's interactions with herself so I know not much has happened in terms of plot or explanations but I hope you all keep reading nonetheless. Power to the people! More frivolity to come…**

**PS. Disclaimer: I own nothing from Once, I make no moneys from this...more's the pity.**

CHAPTER 2:

There was no air.

Somehow it had all been siphoned out of the room.

She couldn't take it in.

The folds in her brain felt as if they were frozen in place, incapable of absorbing information of any kind… although whether it was from exhaustion or shock at the words that had just come from that weird alternate version of her own mouth she wasn't sure.

Didn't particularly care either.

Because Emma was freaking out.

Oh she was still and calm on the outside, as self-possessed as ever but underneath her blood was feverish with questions and anxieties and singing screams at what her double could possibly have meant with that statement; dropped so easily from her own tongue.

_Jesus._

Her breathing was too fast.

And she couldn't get enough air into her lungs to fill them.

_Oh God._

It was a familiar sensation and some part of her underneath the rising alarm knew she had to calm down before a full on panic attack kick-started; knew the signs well enough by now for her to grasp for the one thing in this whole freak show that she could just about handle.

_One question at a time_.

Emma held the gun steady as she tried to calm the pumping in her chest, trying desperately not to picture the gush of blood headlong through arteries like water slides. She was Emma Swan goddamnit.

Unflappable. Unbreakable.

…Even though she felt about as close to breaking as she had when Henry had turned up at her door; blindsided and sucker-punched with guilt that had no time for introductions.

Yeah, it was a _very_ similar sensation come to think of it.

"So you're…" she managed to draw out. "You're…"

"…You. It'd seem so."

She frowned drawing breath through her nose instead, muscles in her wrists held taut.

"So… let's suppose I _don't_ shoot you where you stand … and I believe such an unbelievable thing is possible …" She stopped to siphon another long breath, "…which doesn't mean that I do... You're me… but from where? And when?"

Green eyes narrowed again as her brain finally began to wake a little behind them, flexing a millimetre and causing tiny starbursts to flare for a second in the lamplight.

Ignoring the voice laughing at her for sitting here listening to anything the other woman had to say, basically undermining every instinct she'd developed over…well, an entire lifetime she trusted her breathing to carry on and stared at the other Emma, at her body face on without distraction. Scanning the other woman's face intently, devouring every line that was visible in the low light she let her pupils slip down the woman's neck where a small gold chain hung listlessly, then moved onto the muscular arms she'd put so much work into herself and half-hidden legs wrapped in dark blue denim. It was all so similar. The way she held her head, the tilt of it and the slight curve upwards in the thin stroke of eyeliner. The same quirk of a wrist rushing to get out the door in the morning.

_How could that be the same when it was a complete accident?_

It filled her with such a strange other-worldly sensation to be inspecting her mirror image that every few seconds she had to remind herself not to force her eyes away from the visitor in her bedroom as she took in every inch of skin. Every pore. Every detail

"Can I help you?" her counterpart asked sardonically.

She looked up then, chest rising and falling.

"You don't seem any older than I am. Show me your elbow…"

The other Emma huffed in response muttering something under her breath about a girl's rights to privacy then pulled her cardigan up to reveal a whitish line crisscrossing the bone.

"And your ankle."

There was the scuff of fabric before she was able to seek out that familiar lump underneath the skin, the prominent vein close to the surface from a biking accident that'd ended her dreams of a sports career.

They were slender dreams to begin with but still.

Dreams.

"You don't seem to have any scars I don't recognise… so you're not from the future." She said simply.

"Is this the part where you organise a strip search to make sure I don't have an almanac stashed somewhere?"

"Is this the part where you get over yourself?!" Emma grumbled as she got to her knees on the bed and crawled a few inches closer to her doppelganger though not close enough to risk touching her. "I'm doing my best not to lose it here okay. Give me a freaking minute to get my head together… jeez I don't remember being so cocky."

Her double offered up a curved smile.

"_I_ don't remember being so mistrustful…Oh wait no I'm thinking of... anyone else. Ever."

"Hilarious."

The blonde Sheriff finally rocked back on her heels on top of the duvet, letting the gun drop an inch or so and stared openly at her guest with slowing breaths as she tried her absolute best to keep all the words caught at the back of her throat from spilling out of her mouth.

Whys and where's and who's galore.

A few WTF's thrown in too.

At least she had some experience with that kind of mindfuck living in Regina's little fiefdom all those months.

Her chest guttered at the thought of the Mayor though, just for a brief second before she flicked her attention back to the intruder.

"Where _are_ you from?"

The other version of her bit her lip in response, the air of arrogance almost slipping away.

"Would you believe me if I said I don't know?"

Emma considered it as her blood began to simmer down. Her spider sense told her that the other woman was being truthful but she'd never tried to use her power on herself so she couldn't be sure if it was still working or if she'd stumbled across its Achilles heel. Either way, she wasn't any better off than she had been before she'd asked. In fact, she could already feel a tension headache coming on from the entire experience, a growing storm sitting on top of her right eye.

All she'd wanted was some goddamn sleep.

_And Regina's forgiveness. Don't forget that._

"Sorry."

The admission from a few metres away caught her by surprise and Emma massaged her neck as she locked gazes with her twin.

"I guess it's ok. You should be as used to not knowing what's going on by now as I am."

"Actually I meant about waking you." Alternate Emma winced. "I know what I'm like if I don't catch a full cycle, if I'd thought I'd have waited till tomorrow."

"So you know who you are even though you don't know where you're from? That's kinda weird isn't it."

"Yeah _that's_ the weird part about all this."

Emma grunted as the conversation backslid again. "I'm just trying to establish a chain of events, ok? It's late and I'm basically talking to myself right now so could you cut me some slack?"

She watched in surprise as a faint pink tint suddenly flashed across her impostor's cheeks.

_Huh._

She wasn't aware that she blushed so easily. That was kind of embarrassing.

"Sorry about that too I guess. Carry on."

Replica hands motioned for her to continue and Emma had to look away from the oddest fear that she might grab them.

"Ok. So what do you remember about your life?" asked the blonde feeling a smidgen guilty about snapping a moment ago.

Green eyes became wide pools. "Everything. Growing up... All the foster homes. Seven minutes in heaven with Joey Ramirez behind the outhouse. Lino Farber and his amazing technicolour condom shack. Neil. The Bug. A _lot_ of bad burritos... one that put me in Boston General for two days."

"Yeah that was a bastard." Murmured Emma almost forgetting herself. "Gastroenter-fuckness."

"Stomach-flu-shittery."

"Hey you didn't get up that first night in the ER and..."

"Not make it to the patient's bathroom in time? I did. And thanks for that blast from the past…I kind of told everyone in the trolley bay I changed into some brown leggings I had with me."

"Oh yeah! Ewwww..." Emma stuck her tongue out as she remembered that night in graphic detail and the walk home once she'd been discharged. "We're kinda gross huh?"

"I think we might be," replied her double flashing a grin. "Gross but resourceful."

Emma's own smile faded however as her mind clicked back to the present. "What was the last thing you remember, before being here?"

Her counterpart screwed up her nose as she thought back. "I...I don't know."

"Were you in Storybrooke?"

"I...Yeah I was. That's how I knew to come here to find you."

"So you were looking for me?"

The new Sheriff pursed her lips briefly. "I came to...help you get back on track. ...I think."

Emma couldn't help indulging in an eye-roll. "Last time I checked tracks only went one way. And I'm not a derailed train carriage."

"Oh so your life's a Disney dream right now is it?! Everyone bursting into song and making daisy chains?"

"I'm doing all right."

The retort came out more defensively than she meant but somehow just in that moment she wasn't able to hold back the overwhelming tiredness and irritation she'd managed to tamp down so far and her counterpart's smug face wasn't helping any.

Hands curling into fists she brought the gun back up with purpose and slid backwards a foot; posture hardening.

The thing was it didn't seem to faze her double any. She simply shrugged as if to say she wouldn't be sitting there in that room if everything was A OK. Truth be told it was irritating and not a little bit superior.

More Regina-esque than Emma would have liked.

"So you went through everything? With the curse and Pan, with Zelena and...all of it?"

Throwing her arms out was the best Emma did her best to describe the entire fairytale nightmare she'd been living through over the past few years, hoping her mirror image at least understood the scope of what she meant.

"Yeah. Hell of a ride this place isn't it?"

Apparently she did get it.

The idea was nowhere near as comforting to Emma as it should have been.

"Right, which means you're not Future Me. And you're definitely not Past Me, that's for damn sure. Otherwise there'd be a whole lot of broken glass under the window and a bunch of fenceable items missing."

"You're kind of harsh on Past You."

Azure eyes flashed as the acid slid up again.

"And you're kind of mouthy for a clone. Past Me got us nothing but a one way ticket to the slammer and a rap sheet with too misdemeanours to get a real job. Ever. She's not exactly a role model, you should know that. Or did that fall out of your brain along with everything else."

"She got you Henry."

The Sheriff froze at the casual mention of her son's name. "Don't talk about him."

"Why, he's as much a part of your life as all the other things I've brought up."

She could actually hear her own teeth grinding inside her head.

"More actually. _Much_ more than any of those. And can you not say 'brought up' in the same sentence as him..." Emma's chest began to tighten again. "I can't... he isn't..." She sucked in a breath trying to regain some sense of control. "..some things stay off the table for now. Ok?"

Emma mark II held her hands up in surrender although it was clear from her expression that she was simply filing away the discussion for later rather than giving up on it entirely. Whatever got them through the night though, thought Emma flexing her jaw.

_One thing at a time._

"All right, take a minute."

She shut her eyes for a moment and focused on her breathing. Long, slow strokes where the oxygen slid along her throat and nose tickling it slightly. Her pulse felt like a surging bullet making its way up her rigid body from her left calf to the right side of her neck but it seemed to be consistent at least.

A small victory. But one she'd take.

"Hey I don't suppose you have any booze do you, I'm gasping?"

Snapping an eye open she glared unashamedly at the complete lack of etiquette currently being displayed by her other half. Same half.

_Whatever._

_Yin and Yin._

Damn, she thought. This was going to be a long night.

TBC…


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks to all taking the time to follow this story, I know the pace is a little slower than some might like but I go where my brain takes me! Anyways, there are big things to come so please feel free to leave a comment- love, hate, indifference...you're all welcome!**

**Disclaimer: There's no ownage of characters here, just a dream and a laptop!**

CHAPTER 3:

Emma couldn't remember the last time she'd been up at five am. At least not in any meaningful way that involved motor function and actual human speech. But there was no way she could go back to bed knowing that her carbon copy was wandering about the apartment touching her things, leaving her fingerprints all over them.

_Their_ fingerprints.

The thought made her shudder.

It also wasn't lost on her that this could be the start of possibly the best frame-up job _ever_ but she forced herself to push the suspicion deep to the back of her mind as she towelled her hair dry. For all their similarities, her double seemed almost as immune to distrust as she was to respecting personal space so there didn't seem much point dwelling on what schemes she might have.

_Sometimes you just had to let someone play their games out so you know how to react._

Derk, her boss had taught her that the first day of her bounty hunting gig all those years ago. And to be fair Emma had more than enough experience of what it'd take to cause her doppelganger some real pain if it came to it. She knew all her own little weak spots after all.

Brushing the hair out of her face, Emma wondered for a moment if that made her a bad person.

Maybe her unwanted twin was on the level. Maybe she was here to help.

And maybe she wasn't skulking in another room as she'd been assuming; perhaps she was just waiting for the question to break; the one that hung so plainly over the both of them- unasked and unanswered.

Emma swallowed hard as she remembered those awful words from last night and the bleak, hopeless look buried in green eyes immediately after. It couldn't have been a lie.

It couldn't…

And if it _was,_ she seriously needed to reconsider a career on Broadway because the wave of despair pouring off her double had been almost real enough to taste.

She was going to destroy everything.

Everyone.

Henry. Her parents.

Regina.

After everything they'd made it through. All of them. Gone. No more coffee dates at the diner, no more arguments across the dinner table about etiquette and how much ketchup was too much ketchup. All of that wiped out. With nothing to leave as legacy but a bunch of cartoons printed and printed then reprinted across the world in an effort to teach kids how to behave. How not to do things.

_And Henry..._

Henry wouldn't even get that.

Her mind screamed at her to stop this train of thought immediately but she couldn't….because Henry would be lost completely. Nothing but a name buried in an archive on a government database. At best forgotten.

…And at worst stolen by someone looking to create a cover story; a criminal or some heartless undercover cop. Someone who didn't give a shit about the boy who'd loved comics and hated cauliflower except when it was drowned in cheese; all they would care about was a date of birth and how much use it could be to them.

_No _thought Emma angrily. That's not happening.

This is not happening.

"How do I do it?" she yelled suddenly and after a brief hiatus saw a flash of blonde appear in the doorway to the bedroom.

"Do what?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Don't play coy, it hasn't worked since grade school."

The other Emma frowned at the sudden turn in atmosphere. "I don't have an answer…just a series of images bundled up together in my head. That's what makes it so hard to...explain."

Emma growled in frustration. "So how can you know..."

"I know what I felt before I woke up here; it's weird but that doesn't seem to fade."

She steeled herself.

"So what did you feel?"

"Guilt. Oil black guilt." That desperate expression was back, sliding across those familiar features a few feet away. "And anger. At something I'd done, something I'd been convinced was the right thing to do at the time but hadn't worked out that way… I think. It's all so messed up it's hard to tell."

Well there it was. She'd finally asked.

And after all the build up, it had gotten her precisely nowhere.

Emma rubbed her temple tiredly. "Then how are you supposed to help me?"

"Gut instinct?"

There was a wan smile.

"Maybe the memories will come back at some point but until then I guess I'm going on old-fashioned gut instinct."

"How comforting."

"We've had to get by on less."

She couldn't really argue with that. Not that it made the churning in her stomach subside any. Or the desire to grab the other woman and shake her stupid until some real answers fell out of her mouth. Anything that might help her figure out what the hell she was supposed to…

"Hold up!"

The blonde dropped her towel at the unexpected shriek, watching as it coiled up on the floor.

"Christ on a bike, what?!" she said.

"I remembered something. A colour." Emma II whispered excitedly.

"A colour?"

"Wait. Not any colour, one with something to do with dust...and faith. Yeah dust and faith. And secrets." Emma watched breathlessly, fighting the urge to ask any questions as her counterpart wrinkled up her nose sifting through her new memories with as much speed as you could when forced to wade through sludge .

"Dust and faith and secrets. " she murmured. "Tunnels and spires."

"Spires like a church?"

Emma almost slapped herself for opening her mouth but the wide eyes that shined back at her quickly wiped that away.

"Yes! The church, the one on seventh and Remada!"

"The one where Mother Superior runs the shelter?"

"Mother Superior..." The other blonde suddenly smacked Emma's upper arm with such force that Emma took a grumbling step back.

"Mother Superior! Rheul Gorm, the blue star! That's it; you're a genius. It was a talisman. Ice blue like her dress, small; just before everything went dark. I remember trying to grab it... the thing was weirdly cold in my hand."

It didn't sound like anything Emma had ever seen before but the new piece of information set her skin ablaze as she tried to work out what and where it might be in her Storybrooke. Ablaze with the possibility that they could change her fate and no-one would ever have to be any the wiser.

"Sounds like magic played a major part then," she mused. "Which is great news considering I don't have mine anymore."

A flash of surprise crossed her counterpart's face but she didn't say anything merely pushing a lock of hair behind her ear.

"But it was small enough to fit in your hand?"

"Yeah."

"We need to work out whether it was an amulet or a talisman then."

Her double looked at her uncomprehendingly and Emma felt a brief flash of something resembling pride course through her.

"Look I don't know much about this stuff but back before I lost my magic Regina taught me that when people used objects to cast a spell, you either had to use an amulet or a talisman. An amulet was an object with natural magical properties but a talisman was something that had to be charged with power by the person using it."

The same confused green eyes waited. "I'm not sure how that makes..."

"Well it'd tell us if the person who used it had magic or not, right?"

Her double almost appeared impressed.

"That's actually kinda smart."

"Thanks very much," groused Emma although her mind was working overtime on the small piece of information they'd gotten so far. Without her magic she was pretty much working blind though. What they really needed was someone much more well versed in the subject. Someone who'd had experience in this area, who had learned it from the best.

Someone like...

Regina.

She felt herself go a little green at the idea of seeing the Mayor again. The last time they'd spoken had been the big reunion when Robin had caught sight of his long dead wife and the room had blossomed into a sea of smiles and delight. All except for one. Regina had looked at her then like she'd stuck a machete deep into her gut and she hadn't even had the chance to explain why she'd done it before the brunette had run from the room away from all those glossy eyes. Away from the landslide of happiness that threatened to bury her whole.

Remembering it made Emma want to retch but she caught her double's eye nonetheless.

"We're gonna need some help. And from someone who's really not going to be happy to see me."

Alternate Emma shrugged as if she didn't even need to ask who they were talking about; a fact that was equal parts reassuring and annoying.

"Again not a new experience for us."

There was a new smirk on that face though that Emma found at odds with the pit of worry growing at the base of her own stomach.

"Do you think I should take some flowers or something, like a peace offering?"

Her double smiled grimly as she threw her jacket over to her. "Probably best not to give her anything she could potentially stuff down your throat."

Emma moaned. "Fair point."

As she grabbed her keys from the bowl on the counter, a million contrary emotions tumbling through her and her brain staying away from imagining what might happen when she got to the mansion she knew so well, Emma held a warning finger up. "You stay here."

The other Sheriff blinked, "But I need to ask..."

"If she sees two of us, she might just think its ok to axe murder one coz she still gets to yell really loudly at the other until the end of time so you wait for me to come back."

Anticipating the argument that was about to come Emma quickly slapped a hand over the other's mouth. "Not up for discussion, ok?"

A frustrated nod was her answer.

She was out the door in under thirty seconds, sneaking a quick glance to make sure her instructions were being followed as she went.

Then she stepped onto the street and it was just her and the stockpot of nerves bubbling away in her belly.

Heading to Regina's to ask for a favour.

She wasn't sure this morning could get any worse.

It had taken her less than fifteen minutes to walk across town to Mifflin Street. Not nearly enough time for her to build up anything resembling courage but just enough to make her want to bolt with every fibre of her being.

But she couldn't go back with her tail between her legs to a pair of expectant eyes. Her own eyes at that...or close enough.

She had to do this.

For her. For Henry. Hell for all of them- Regina included. Although she might not realise it yet.

Lifting her hand Emma held it an inch from the door as her mind darted back and forth between rapping as hard as she could and beating a hasty retreat back to the dark street.

Neither reflecting well on her...and Regina could hold either against her if she found out.

Standing there, she couldn't work out which was worse. Watching your own cowardice play out like an out-of-body experience or knowing someone you'd wronged was about to see it.

Someone who had once been a friend…

Who could have been more…

Cutting the thought off at its root, she growled softly and thumped on the hard wood, bouncing a toe up and down as she waited for a response. Hoping this wasn't going to be as painful as she imagined especially given the fact it was stupid o'clock in the morning.

After a moment, there was a hushed whisper from inside. The sound of fabric on marble then the door slid open an inch, a pair of obsidian eyes glaring through the gap.

It only took a second before the door was slammed shut again with such force that the wave of air hit Emma solidly in the face.

_Awesome. Only Regina Mills could get a punch in without even raising a hand._

She rolled her shoulders out, resisting the need to puke.

"Regina, please open the door."

There was a pause as Emma tried to work out whether the brunette had retreated to the back of the house. Hoping that she hadn't, that there was something worth salvaging...

"I did open the door, dear" came the cold reply then. "I think we've established that I'm not the one here who bucks convention for the hell of it."

So she hadn't gone. She'd just been standing there on the other side of the door waiting for ...something.

_Was that good?_

Biting her lip, Emma began scanning the street hoping there weren't any early morning joggers out this way.

"Then would you please open the door again so that I can explain why I'm here?"

"I know why you're here."

_I seriously doubt that, _thought Emma.

"…And I have no interest in hearing another mewling apology. One would be pathetic enough but a constant tirade gets a little tiring."

Silence descended.

"I _am_ sorry," said Emma finally in a soft tone.

It was the worst thing she could've come back with apparently as the door was flung open in a fit of rage and the slender shape of the Mayor emerged, eyes lit up.

"It's half past five in the morning Miss Swan. Henry is up there sleeping in case you'd forgotten; I know how things tend to fall out of your brain but if you could write his name on a post-it as a way of remembering his existence that would do us all a big favour."

A little shocked Emma went to open her mouth again but Regina held a shaking hand up silencing her.

"Sorry is an easy word to say Miss Swan but it doesn't undo the pain that came before it and its continuous repetition takes away any power it might once have had. "

Emma swallowed hard in response, mesmerised by the deep bags under those eyes and the flickering dullness coating Regina's skin. She'd never seen her so angry.

Actually that was a lie. She'd never seen her so angry since she'd begun to make changes in her life. That was the old Regina. The scared one.

And the idea that she might be backsliding into the resentful person she'd used to be because of a stupid momentary decision on Emma's part only made her insides roil more turbulently.

"Please, I never meant…"

The words died in her throat as Regina stepped forward until her nose was an inch away from Emma's and the chords in her neck strained with the effort of keeping something unnameable in check.

"Stop. Saying. It."

"I can't." stuttered Emma. And she couldn't. Couldn't stop the words from trying to escape her mouth, couldn't stop trying to make Regina understand how much she….

"Why?" hissed the brunette. "Why can't you just leave me alone?"

"I don't know."

A hard smile lit up dark features at that. "Because just like your parents you think you can solve everything with a word and a smile."

"No…I…"

Regina suddenly sneered at her grabbing her wrist. "Do you think Henry heard that word those first few days you turned up here and suddenly all those nightmares of being lost and left in a giant brick furnace just fell out of his head?"

It felt as if she'd been physically slapped. Emma hadn't known he'd been having nightmares before he'd come to find her let alone a recurring one with such a horrific plot. It was too much to take in. Her brain screamed at her to leave so she could get some air, try and process that revelation before saying another word but as she tried to pull her arm out of the older woman's grip but there was no let up in the hold.

An action that might once have made Emma smile but now sent indistinct chills through her flesh.

"Do you imagine the few times that you've allowed yourself to call them Mom and Dad since rediscovering your heritage make up for the coldness in the way you treat your parents? That they can't feel your resentment despite the words that fall from your mouth?"

Emma wanted anything but to be touching Regina now but she was held in place forced to listen to that gruff cold voice spewing its venom.

"Do you think that if anyone had sticks and stones at their disposal a single word would be said? No. There would be blood and rage and the clashing of swords but no-one would be speaking."

Emma's legs barely held her up. All of a sudden it seemed like it was only the older woman's grip that kept her standing and Emma stared up at her with watery eyes.

"I hate you."

A sob broke from the blonde at that and she shook her head despairingly for all the good it did.

Regina tightened her grasp. "You understand that don't you? I hate you for being allowed to act without thought and to wrap those actions up in the banner of goodness. And everyone's best interests." Her voice fell into a cold whisper. "I hate that you show remorse and your copybook gets whitened accordingly. I hate you... for being forced away from your parents for an entire lifetime and somehow managing to embody their worse qualities when I couldn't escape the presence of mine and still get punished for behaving like them!" Her breath came out in hot puffs. "Do you know that I never hated you before. Oh, you were presumptuous and irritating and I…I admit there was an element of envy to my actions back in the beginning. "

Emma's head sprang up at that but she didn't have the chance to ask what Regina had meant because the brunette wasn't about to stop now. Not when she finally had the chance to say all the things that had been burning in her chest."

She released Emma's arm and took a step back, brushing a hand through her hair as if it could erase the red rimming her narrowed eyes. "Everything came so easy to you. Friends. Loyalties. Well not this. And let me make myself very clear. I have no interest in anything you might have to say Sheriff. Now or in the future. You've destroyed the only thing I've allowed myself to put faith in since I lost this town to you so please go celebrate your victory somewhere else. It's the only gallant thing left for you to do."

Hot tears leaked from Emma's eyes as the she stared at the pursed lips that seemed so alien now on the other woman's face and Regina raised a single knowing eyebrow.

"You can reduce this down to hurt feelings and jealousy if you want, no-one would blame you but the truth is I hate you because you pushed and pushed for me to change when you've never had to bend even an inch. I suppose this qualifies as the answer to that preposterous riddle. This; this is what happens when an unstoppable force meets an immoveable object. I have nothing more to say to you. Don't come back here."

Stepping away Regina turned a shaking back to her guest and just like that, in the blink of an eye made her way inside the foyer without turning. Without acknowledging the other woman's hysterics at all.

"Please Regina, I need your help!" Emma begged, pride totally stripped away.

The sound of a quiet voice echoed on marble although the brunette kept her position. "And I needed yours. I needed you to show the rest of them that the good inside me was as deserving as the good in any of them but you didn't, all you saw was a life that could be added to the sums in your column. One more tally."

The white door swung closed then with a hard thunk as the latch caught and Emma sank to her knees on the steps too drained to even pretend tears weren't pouring from her eyes. Too bruised and battered to attempt any more explanations regardless of their importance. She wasn't capable of thinking about anything but the jagged pain in Regina's face. In her words. It was everywhere and everything. Inside of her and out.

She never knew that inside the house, outside of her earshot the brunette meanwhile was leaning heavily against a wall as she sucked in a series of deep cleansing breaths, trying her best not to give in to the overwhelming urge to scream. Henry was still upstairs after all and she wasn't about to lower herself to do exactly what she'd accused Emma of. She was better than her. Better in every way. She had to be.

A wry voice floated down from the stairs. "That was impressively mean."

Regina closed her eyes. "It had to be said."

"Impressively eloquently too. We are quite the vision when we're angry."

Sighing, the brunette's eyes blinked open again and she stared forlornly up at the woman standing so regally above. The one who looked exactly like her down to even the smallest microscopic detail. The one who seemed to be judging her for the emotional outburst that had just occurred.

She couldn't have that. Wouldn't have it. Dragging herself up to stand with her back straight, the Mayor offered a glimmer of a smile and pointed towards the kitchen with as much conviction as she could.

"It seems an appropriate time for a drink. And since it's a little early for cider, what do you say to a coffee?"

Her mirror image nodded as she started making her way downstairs. "I think that sounds lovely."

TBC...


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Jeez so so sorry guys, I meant to post this a few weeks ago but then I applied for a new job and the application/interview and everything took over my life. The good news is that's all done now (and I got it so yay!) so I'm back on this story. I've had a blast so far contrasting Emma and Regina's reactions to themselves. I know not much has happened in terms of plot and it's not clear yet what's going on but I promise there's method in the madness. Anyways massive thanks to all Faves and follows, you make my day.**

**Peace in your crease!**

**Disclaimer: Don't own nuthin'. Mo' money mo' problems as they say.**

Chapter Four:

**A few hours previously…**

Across town from Emma's apartment things upstairs at 108 Mifflin Street were a good deal quieter. Regina was lying in between warm panes of silk; sheets that had started out as ice a few hours ago but now after absorbing all the heat from her skin had transformed into warm mercury.

She adored the sensation of having them wrap around her legs. Sometimes it was almost enough to convince her fading brain that there was someone there with her in the large four poster bed, someone who hadn't run from her or been snatched away, threatened by the powers and past she couldn't find a way to shed.

Someone constant and kind and perhaps… despite the irony, even handy with a bow and arrow if the situation called for it.

A girl could dream.

A tired somewhat- redeemed mayor too. Even if it wasn't in as vivid technicolour as she used to.

Groaning under her breath, face burrowed under unacceptably messy locks Regina turned over burying herself under the weight of an unshakeable loss that never seemed to go away.

She knew she should be happy.

Well not happy. Content then. She had Henry safe at home with her which was all she had ever wanted and their relationship had never been stronger since she'd agreed to fight alongside that ragtag band of simpering heroes Emma Swan called a family unit.

Once upon a time that had been all that was required to give her life meaning. Not much to ask for in the grand scheme of things. A son who felt something approaching love for her and spent his time with a face buried in a pile of books down at the library rather than staying in his room obsessing over just the one.

All day every day. A very particular one as it had turned out.

The book that had sealed her fate.

God how she hated that leather bound monstrosity.

She'd never wanted the ghastly thing in the house but no matter how many times she had thrown it away or tried to dispose of it the book had had the audacity to keep turning up again. As if it had a mind of its own; as if it knew exactly what she wanted and did its utmost to undermine her at any opportunity.

Like the boy reading it.

Funny…but now…after everything, she'd give all she had to have that book back in the house. Because back then at least she'd known what she wanted.

Now she was utterly and completely lost. Surrounded by fog and uncertainty.

_As if that was any wonder._

The past few months had been nightmarish; more so than even she was used to and The Evil Queen had seen sights that would make the simplest soul suck in a breath.

First had come Pan. All wild grins and rebellion, tricking her into giving him hugs that now sent shivers through her spine, forcing her to offer comfort to someone too bleak and twisted to appreciate it, someone who couldn't have been less like Henry if he'd tried. Using real affection for childish amusement.

And before any of them had time to draw breath, Emma and Henry had gone, cracking her already brittle heart, returning home only when Zelena appeared- a woman she might once have called sister if she could have risen above all those snide pot-shots about failing their mother ….if she could have…

And yet.

She'd not given in to the darkness. That was perhaps the most surprising part of all. With all that desolation and abandonment, with the fluency that came with its greasy touch she'd clung onto Henry's pleas to become a more forgiving person; taken the tiniest of steps everyday to make that happen- going against every instinct, forcing herself to open up whenever the slimmest of opportunities had arisen.

With Snow and her unborn child.

With Henry and Emma as their memories snuck back.

With Robin and his son.

She'd taken the leap, using all that roaring pain as fuel for the climb.

And for one wonderful moment she'd been aloft, held up by something indecipherable that she'd never thought could exist…

But then…

Then the ground had rushed up in an instant like a concrete pillow and the one person who might just have been able to see past all her old mistakes was stolen away in a moment of laughable compassion.

She had been forgotten once again.

Misplaced.

Or displaced.

Something of that ilk.

And she'd slipped backwards so quickly that it sent her head spinning inside an orbit so unpredictable no-one could have charted it. Not even the greatest philosophers.

And God knew what everyone else thought. The Bug. Ruby. Those hairy cave-dwellers. What they whispered as she went about her day on autopilot. Professional. Calm as ever….

She had hoped at home there might be some respite at least. But every day after dinner was cleared away and all the chores were done, when Henry left her to fall into the dreamless sleep of childhood and she was alone again…the waves of dejection never seemed to disperse. In fact if anything they seemed to intensify. Billowing so close to her face that she could practically smell their fumes.

It made no sense.

But on the other hand it made perfect sense. Sense enough to her anyway and she was the only one who…

_Good grief_.

She was beginning to think in riddles even in bed.

How incredibly humiliating.

As if her pride could suffer another….

Suddenly something new broke through Regina's coiling thoughts causing her muscles to stiffen.

Not a noise exactly but a change in the room's air pressure- too slight to be noticed by anyone who hadn't happened to be lying there in a vain attempt to fall into sleep. Too real to be ignored.

And... recognizable too.

Drawing herself up slowly, tired eyes scanned the interior of the lavish boudoir, she took in the familiar rolled edges and marble furnishings that gave off weak reflections from the moonlight slipping through the drapes. They stopped however when they picked out a shadow sitting neatly on the chaise longue at the foot of her bed.

A very familiar shadow.

With a very familiar posture.

But that couldn't be…

Reaching out a hand the Mayor hardened her spine as she pulled the delicate drawstring hanging above so that the room was bathed in light.

"Good evening." Said her Doppelganger, giving a soft incline of the head.

_Well, she has manners at least, _thought Regina numbly although if she sucked in a breath, she wasn't aware of it.

On instinct Regina's eyes found her own and took in the hard glint of amusement buried in chocolate brown.

Its presence almost took the edge off the unease that had settled like a gas the second she'd turned the lights on.

Almost but not quite.

Not that she had any intention of …

"No." she said suddenly, the sound followed by a thunderous silence.

"I beg your pardon?"

"No." she said more forcefully, drawing her shoulders backwards. "…I'm afraid I don't have time to deal with…whatever this is so if you wouldn't mind vacating my bedroom…"

Her voice trailed off pitifully though the tilt of her head left no room for argument and nor did the clenching of her fists against the soft duvet.

However the other Her didn't seem to have any interest in an invitation to leave; simply blinked a little at the abruptness of the tone as she maintained that irritatingly familiar poise, right leg crossed over the left in linen trousers. Just before a knowing grin slid across her face.

"Was I interrupting your beauty sleep?"

Regina said nothing unable to summon the energy to bother addressing the acerbic undertone in her guest's response or cover her own nakedness. If the other woman _was_ who she appeared to be alabaster skin wasn't anything to get excited about anyway.

Even if metres below her own pulse was jumping muscle-deep.

Her gut spasming wildly.

"I'm going to be honest, I was anticipating a _little_ more curiosity on my arrival. Not panic of course but some kind of veiled interest at least."

Regina snapped back to attention at the sound of her own voice spilling from another's mouth.

"What's there to be curious about? Magic brought you here. A very distinctive brand of magic with a very distinctive aroma," she said propping herself against the headrest.

"In which case there's an old adage I feel I should throw in- something about pigs and their ability to smell…well you know."

"That's a little crude for this time of the morning."

That seemed to get her counterparts attention at least.

"Must be that blonde's influence," muttered her twin turning her eyes away for the first time. "I'll have to keep an eye on that."

Again Regina held her tongue, though she didn't miss the inquisitive glance thrown her way.

As the blanket of fatigue settled across her shoulder-blades once more, unwieldy and ironclad, she threw out a sigh at what this ridiculous situation could mean, allowing her legs to stretch out in front of her for a second then pushed the sheets back as she got to her feet and sauntered across to the black oak armoire. Pulling out a drawer, she selected the thin oriental robe lying on top and pulled it out, wrapping the sheer fabric around her frame like armour.

"That's pretty."

It was a harmless compliment. But one that sent a shiver rocketing through her vertebrae spoken as it was in her own husky tone of voice.

She couldn't deal with this.

She couldn't...

_ But you have to, _her brain whispered. _There's always one more thing to face._

A lesson hard earned and well learned by now.

And she was nothing if not a scholar.

Attempting to compose her face before turning back around, painfully aware of its pallor and puffiness Regina finally forced herself to level a gaze at her own mirror image. At the lines and angles of her own countenance.

"So if I could ask what you might be wanting since you seem so intent on seeking me out?"

"So it's straight down to business? The guard never drops, even with yourself? You don't count as the exception?"

Regina smiled thinly. "To be the exception assumes you are exceptional…"

Her voice, much to her own mortification petered out as she snapped back to recent events before it broke completely into pieces and she was forced to imitate a cough, covering her mouth with a hand although she knew the act was completely in vain.

The other brunette saw right through her. _Knew_ right through her. She could feel it buzzing across the air in the room; a single rationale between them. It was why she had retreated across to the dresser and maintained a bolthole there.

The closer she got to her, the clearer the hum would become; she just knew it.

And she wasn't ready for that sort of intimacy. Not now.

Not after everything. Her nerves were too raw.

"Just because someone can't see it anymore, doesn't mean the object isn't there," her guest offered uncomfortably.

Causing a tide of disorientation to roll over her skin.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

The original Mayor crossed her arms gruffly; chin high daring the argument to come but it never did which surprised her. In fact her double seemed completely unruffled by her indignation considering the fact she'd broken at least five different laws in the last ten minutes- both criminal and in terms of basic etiquette.

And it was seriously starting to grate on her.

"So out with it then. What is the emergency of the day?" she asked archly.

"There's no emergency. Just the offer of a little guidance."

Regina let out a cold laugh. "And what makes you think I'm in need of guidance or that I would accept it from…a second rate version of myself?"

White teeth broke through dim light.

"They say the first step is realising you have a problem."

"Well _they _need to keep their meddling noses out of the affairs of private citizens and reflect long and hard on their own problems."

"Is that what you've been doing then? Reflecting long and hard? Or is that a wee bit generous when all you've really been doing is wallowing in your own misery, enjoying the familiarity of it a little too much?"

A switch flicked on inside her. Whether it was the words or the disdain painted on her own leering face she didn't have time to pinpoint but Regina's pupils blacked out in an instant as the glass lampshade attached to the far wall shattered with a plaintive crack.

"Get out."

"Regina…"

"Out!"

The interloper actually looked a little unsure for the first time, all smugness leached from her expression as her body tried to unravel itself from the seat but Regina beat her to it.

Snarling furiously, the Mayor strode over to her other version, ignoring the thrum of their connection as it circled her body and snapped her hand around a wrist dragging her up from the chair.

"Leave my house. Go back to whichever twisted reality you've managed to escape from and take your goddamn judgement with you."

"Regina please, listen to me..."

Struggling against the pincer grip her visitor tried to pull her arm free but there was no leeway in the hold and all she managed to do was unbalance her feet as a raging copy of herself clamped on with everything she had.

Dark eyes suddenly a millimetre from her own ringed with madness.

"I'm sick of listening. All I've done for months is listen to people who think they know the secret to saving my soul."

"Maybe they do?" She said with a hint of desperation. "Did you give them a chance?"

"I gave them every chance!"

Regina's hand seemed to have a mind of its own as it shot up to that smooth neck in front of her, clamping around it tightly as her silk wrap rucked at the elbows.

"I'm going to give you the same order I gave those fools. Leave. Me. Be."

Her double tried to draw in a breath and say something to calm the brunette down but couldn't manage even that. All she could do was stare at Regina with large panic-stricken eyes, croaking as her body fought to breathe. Not to black out as her spine hit the hard wall behind sending an explosion of pain through her ribs.

"All you people do is talk- how can there possibly be any words left to use?! Just a constant crowing everywhere I go- I can't stand it anymore! It's like Chinese water torture."

"Reg..." A ragged sound escaped the heaving throat in front of her and Regina added the weight of her other hand to press against it enjoying the surge of power that came with the action.

Power. Strength. Vigour.

"No; this is my bedroom! And this may not be a castle but this is my private chamber, doesn't that mean anything? Walls and locks are not just for decoration; you should know that better than anyone!"

She did. Regina could see the flash of memories skitter across her doppelganger's forehead, burying themselves deep in the furrows there. Almost picture perfect. Images of Leopold. His troupe of faceless guards. Servants and castle staff bustling around with nary a thought for her discomfort. Content to be doing their duty; brains stuffed with the desire for praise instead of even the most basic level of morality.

It was all there in front of her. Her past. Every indignity and torture. This woman had lived through them too, was the only one who might come close to understanding why she was like this...

Why her hands currently felt the beat of a slowing pulse against their slick palms. Her pulse.

Suddenly the heat of fury in her stomach was plunged into ice.

"Oh God."

_What are you doing?_ Her mind screamed.

Letting her grip slacken and drop, Regina watched in horror as the other woman gulped in air, her chest inflating hard with every inhale, her spine crooked as she hung over herself. There were red finger marks against the sides of her neck that she couldn't keep from staring at even as the other Regina angled her head upwards, peering at her from behind a sheaf of unruly hair.

"Feel better now?" she scratched out.

Regina took a step backwards, staring at the pale skin of her own slender fingers. "No," she whispered.

Her double straightened up painfully. "Still think you don't need help?"

They both knew the answer. It echoed silently between them, one feeling it burn on her neck the other in her fingertips.

"But I...I've been trying so hard."

The visitor's gaze softened as she nodded, brushing her hair back. "I know. But it's never going to be enough."

Regina's whole frame sagged as she took another step backwards and dropped down onto the end of the bed. "Why can't everyone just leave me be?"

"Because as cloying as it is to have their words crawling on your skin... the silence of not having anyone is worse. You should know _that_ better than anyone."

It was the truth. Cold and hard and unarguable even if it hadn't come in the guise of own voice. Regina felt the weight of a body hit the mattress next to her and that familiar hum of energy crackle at her left hand side. She didn't fight it anymore.

She was just so tired, worn out and angry that she couldn't work out which vein of emotion trumped the other as they sat together in silence neither of them sure what to say now. If anything else needed to be said.

Regina wanted that quiet to last forever. Deathly hush ice-blue and crystalline. But at the same time she also wanted to scream so loud that the tallest walls made of brick and iron turned to shards in an instant. It was a strange gauche contradiction but as true as everything else that had been said tonight.

So she let it stand.

"You're not leaving anytime soon are you?" she asked resignedly finally.

"I can't."

"Why?"

Regina's double swallowed hard at the question as if she wasn't sure what the answer was. Then she reached down and taking a pause, intertwined their fingers hoping that she wasn't being too forward.

She raised her eyes again, a sheen of apology caught in the pupils.

"Because if I leave, you're going to destroy everything."

Regina turned to stare at her with horror, breath caught in her chest.

Before she could speak a heavy knock at the front door filtered through the floorboards and caught both of their attention.

But who the hell could be calling on her at this time of the morning?

TBC...


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Ok so introductions done, next four chapters are gonna involve making headway on the mystery. Massive fiery thanks to all reading and especially to you reviewers, y'all are the cake to my birthday!**

**CHAPTER 5:**

"You ok?"

Emma yelped as a face peeked out from the foliage to her right; pale and disembodied in the morning frost, a single plume of fat smoke seeped from the mouth as if to prove that she hadn't lost her mind and that someone had actually spoken.

"Jesus, don't do that," she said wiping her face awkwardly. As if the track marks marring her cheeks could be so easily erased.

Her doppelganger must have shrugged because the leaves around her rustled idiotically for a moment. "Well, excuse me for having your back."

Emma threw her a sardonic look. "How exactly does hiding in someone else's landscaping count as having my back?"

"It's a thing! Confucius said it about... illusion and disguise going hand in hand with...like, defending your friends...look it's deep and profound and don't mock the Chinese, its racist."

If it hadn't been so goddamn cold and she wasn't feeling quite so empty right now Emma could have laughed at the righteousness pasted across her own face as Sheriff Swan mark II made her way out of the bush.

As it was all Emma could do was throw up her hands in submission.

"Fine! Ok. No-one's picking on the Chinese and we're all believers in your weird-ass Asian-Garden-Philosophy here, ok? Would you chill out."

She sucked in a deep breath remaining where she was splayed out on the stone steps of the porch. Everything inside was still telling her not to leave, to take a stand and force another showdown with Regina if only to earn some semblance of time with the headstrong Mayor but she couldn't ignore the cold settling over her skin like tarpaulin. She was also painfully aware of the cool brittle air sliding along the lining of her lungs and how welcome the brief flash of pain that accompanied it. The spark that reminded her she was being punished for her actions. For her own arrogance.

As she should be.

"She's really mad, huh?"

"...You could say that."

Knowing green eyes stared forlornly up at the top storey of the house before coming back down to rest on the dejected Sheriff. "You know she's not really angry though, right?"

Emma barely moved. "Yeah I know."

_Hell, angry would be a cakewalk compared to this._

"She just has a habit of making every other emotion sound a lot like rage. Doesn't matter what it is...Embarrassment. Loss. Betrayal..."

If that was supposed to be comforting, it couldn't have been less so. Each word that came out of the other Emma's mouth felt like a nail being driven into the flesh on her stomach, hammered in with a precision that left her breathless. Because it was all true. Confoundingly, painfully true. Regina may have been one of the smartest women she'd ever met but when it came to emotional maturity, the brunette was a shot glass full of burning liqueur. Incendiary and a sure-fire gateway to destruction. With a side of optional oblivion come daybreak.

"Yeah it's quite a skill she has," mumbled Emma.

"That's right. Like I said, it _all_ comes back illusion and disguise..."

And just like that Emma felt her lips curving upwards of their own accord at the sudden smug look on her counterpart's face. Usually it would have bothered her, the egotism of the remark but she was still fragile and worn out from the events of the last half an hour and the ridiculous waves of satisfaction radiating from her double were...almost, kind of endearing?

God, she was going soft.

"Not gonna let that go anytime soon, are ya?" she drawled.

"Nope." Her companion said smiling. "Philosophy outlives us all."

Emma nodded her head briefly, not even bothering to ask what that meant. The she took another glimpse over her shoulder at the deathly still of the house, punching down the memories of times she had walked right in without even an invitation. "We should probably get out of here."

"Before she calls the cops?"

"Cute. Before she decides chewing my ass out in public is just the appetiser to a main meal." She drew her jacket around her to push some of the frigid cold away and rubbed her arms through the material forcing all thoughts of the earlier exchange out of her mind. Trying. Though it was almost impossible.

Because those hissed, cracked words kept flinging themselves at the walls of her brain like inmates in an asylum.

_Another mewling apology._

_I hate you._

_Everything came so easy to you._

_Go celebrate your victory somewhere else._

It was all so twisted.

So unfair.

_But was it really?_ Her mind chipped in. She had waltzed into Storybrooke all those years ago and demanded to be a part of Henry's life without thought for the legal ramifications. For the emotional ones either. She'd questioned whether Regina loved her own son the first night they met.

_And who the Hell does that?_

Someone who'd never had a second's experience raising a kid or making a home for...

"Hey."

It was just as she was losing herself again that a soft voice cut through the air and Emma felt a hand rest lightly on her shoulder, dragging her back to a world built of stone and frost.

"She was trying to inflict as much pain as possible. She probably doesn't even remember half of what she said."

She couldn't really argue with that. Though she may have wanted to.

The blonde scraped at the marble underneath her palm and allowed the thoughts to recede for a moment as she nodded gratefully at the new Sheriff, aware that the other woman owed her no solace at all, out-of-place as she was in a new world. It was kind though. Unexpectedly kind.

And if it hadn't been for the strange way her neck muscles started to tense nearest those digits on her shoulder she wondered for a brief moment if she was entitled to tilt her head and rest a cheek on the hand that was so achingly familiar.

She'd earned some respite hadn't she? Some kind of consolation for trying to do the right thing...from the only person who might just understand?

A touch meant next to nothing these days, after all...and it wasn't as if she'd ever get to know the sensation of Regina's hand on her skin anymore...

Jerking herself out of her reverie as her brain finally kicked into gear and screamed its disapproval, Emma exhaled wildly, abruptly taking a stumbling step away from her counterpart.

"Right, so we need to sort something out." She said awkwardly.

Her double looked confused.

"As in what we call you?"

"Uh...Emma?"

"I'm Emma." She said forcefully.

The second blonde blinked. "So am I."

"I know that. But things are confusing as it is without us sharing a face _and _a name. We need a way to differentiate between us especially if we're going to keep leaving the apartment."

"Well we can call me the cute Emma if you want."

"We _could_ do that." said the Sheriff before narrowing her eyes, "Of course, we'd also have to call you PSA Emma because I'll have slapped you so hard, your face'll be one big bruise."

Her doppelganger offered her a look in response that basically asked her to do just that. Then she blew out her cheeks. "So you have any better suggestions Oh wise one?"

Emma thought about it for a minute. "Emma number 2?"

"I don't think so. "

"Did we have any nicknames that you remember?"

"None that are safe to say out loud," grinned the blonde waggling her eyebrows although her eyes shone as something obviously occurred to her. "Ok, how about... you can be Emma..."

"Done!"

She rolled her eyes, "...and for now I'll be Ems?"

Emma shrugged. "Cool. Works for me. And I'm pretty sure I can find a whole bunch of stuff that rhymes with that given some time. Femmes. Lucky Gems. It'll be a fun game."

Ems disgruntled expression suggested she didn't seem to agree.

As it was, with one thing settled and feeling a little bit less bilious Emma took the opportunity to glance around them at the quiet street. "So since Regina's a bust...I guess that leaves one other starting point for our search." Her heart twinged momentarily as she forced herself to take the lead and made her way down off the porch but she pushed past it as Ems followed, the pair of them sneaking down the quiet street keeping to the treeline.

"This amulet thing, you said it was blue right?"

"Pale blue, almost translucent. Gilt edging- expensive looking."

Emma screwed up her nose. "Not the sort of thing anyone would keep lying around then."

"Doubtful."

"I think our best bet's Gold's shop then. Old and powerful things seem to gravitate towards him if you know what I mean."

"Like attracts like," her double agreed bouncing a little on the toes of her sneakers as they walked.

"Really? More philosophy? Isn't it a little early in the day for this?" groaned Emma.

A wink flew back at her. "Basic rules of attraction. Even you should know that."

Emma had to forcibly bite her tongue as she ignored that. "So which one of us should..."

"Oh this one's totally mine," Ems cut in, a manic gleam in her eye. "I'm feeling the need for some good old-fashioned small-town shopping!"

They'd still argued about which one of them should go in for a good half an hour. Emma was convinced that Gold would know immediately that something wasn't right if her double went along but Ems was equally adamant that she needed to do something pro-active or she was going to lose her mind. After much debate Emma had grudgingly acknowledged how tired she was and with reluctance had begun making her way back to the apartment though she couldn't resist leaving a parting shot before she went.

"I can hide in some Japanese shrubbery if that'd help..."

Ems had waved her off with as much sincerity as she could manage and that was how she had found herself here, outside the olde worlde antiques boutique on Main Street.

So familiar and so alien at the same time.

As if she were lost in a dream.

Taking one last sweep of the empty street she decided to go for it and strode confidently into the shop ignoring the loud tinkle of the bell as the door shut behind her. Seeing no-one around, she started wandering along the small aisles, letting her fingers play along the shelves, tasting the dust and worth of each object stacked haphazardly on them- Vanity cases. Love spoons. Engraved woodcarvings and the like.

Pausing as her fingertips ghosted along an antique wooden box, she opened up the lid gently and stared down at the strange hand carved pair of marionettes lying inside, barely touching each other but faces turned together.

"Well, isn't this a pleasant surprise? Something I can help you with Sheriff?"

She looked up as the sound of a cane hit the floor a few feet away and a face swung into view.

"Just looking for gift ideas," she replied casually averting her eyes and peering down again at the despondent couple couched inside the box. At the red velvet lining they were effectively buried in.

"I'd venture that Henry might be a little old for those but I can give you a good price if you'd like." Gold offered with a smirk. "Something tells me you'd make quite the puppet-master if you put your mind to it."

_Shit._

Ems froze for a second, unsure what the oily undertone in the man's comment might signify but then she chastised herself for her jitteriness and shut the lid as softly as she'd opened it straightening up. "Well I guess you'd know."

"Indeed I would."

They both stared at each other, green eyes on grey neither willing to say anything while the air crackled with a strange intensity. The imp on home turf, Ems so far from her own that it felt like she was stood on shifting sand rather than scuffed floorboards.

The silence stretched between them and It was Ems finally that relented.

"Actually, I was looking for something a bit more adult," she admitted.

Gold raised an eyebrow at her choice of words and she instinctively rolled her eyes. "Not like that. Gross."

"Adult as in..."

"As in trinkets. Charms. Jewellery. That sort of thing."

"Ah, the kind of gift for a situation when flowers don't quite cut it..."

A frown flashed across her face at the insinuation and she couldn't keep from growling underneath her breath. The man, and she used the term loosely, was as infuriatingly oblique as the version in her own world and made her skin crawl in all the same reptile ways. Just being in his presence unsettled her stomach and she had to fight the urge to take a step back towards the door injecting some space between them.

She didn't however. Emma would never have let her live it down for one thing; not after she'd practically begged for this assignment.

"I didn't say who the gift was for," she stated coldly watching him nod as if chastened. Almost believably. Almost human-like.

"Of course not Sheriff and a gentleman would never ask."

A snort broke from her. "A gentleman, right."

He started to move away from her and wandered back behind the dusty oak counter for a moment. Bending down Mr Gold reached underneath the till to retrieve something she couldn't quite make out then limped his way back balancing a square of foam on his upturned palm before placing it gingerly on the shelf to her left. It was a row of rings and necklaces carefully catalogued and arranged covering everything from gold to silver to platinum and everything between. Thick bands. Delicate chains.

Hand-wrought designs that reflected the light in all the right places.

They were beautiful pieces all; stunning some of them but none seemed even remotely familiar to her. Not one pricked at her memories. And not one of matched the right kind of blue she'd been looking for. Her heart sank in an instant.

"Trinkets, charms, jewellery as requested. These are all I have in stock at the moment but you're welcome to any of them that might take your fancy."

Ems caught his dark gaze for a moment and cursed her inability to hide the disappointment seeping through her pores as she saw a flicker of recognition looking back.

"Not what you had your heart set on?" His tongue poked out between thin lips for a second. "Well we're only a little provincial store. I won't take it personally."

"...Thank you anyway," she managed to stutter. "I...I appreciate your time."

"I'm always here to help Miss Swan, now if..."

Ding!

Before he could finish the sentence a familiar chime sounded behind them and the pair turned to see Robin standing in the doorway greeting them with a warm slightly sheepish smile.

"Mr Hood! This _is_ the day for unanticipated visits." Said Gold nodding his head.

Ems for her part was totally prepared to second that but something inside her stopped the greeting from falling from her mouth. Instead every muscle in her body seemed to tighten at the man's appearance in the shop, pulling at her neck uncomfortably.

Something was very wrong. Something she couldn't even begin to put a name to.

As Robin stepped towards them, amiable grin still firmly in place Ems almost felt her frame move of its own accord, blocking his way into the back part of the antiques shop.

"I don't think you'll find anything you're looking for in here." She said plainly.

_Jeez, What the hell was she doing?_

Robin was clearly a little taken aback as well though he still offered a quizzical smile. "A bold statement Miss Swan, considering you don't know what it is I'm after."

He had a fair point but Ems entire being was screaming as if held in a vice and the screech drowned out any logical thoughts that might have been forming elsewhere.

"Still. I'd take your business elsewhere if I was you."

There was no room for argument in her tone and as the bearded man stared at her, taking in the arms crossed over each other and the hardwood tenor of her voice she inwardly cringed at her own behaviour. But it was like she was watching a movie of herself and had no control over the scene playing out on screen. No remote. No script. Just action and reaction.

Even as she watched her own part, Emma had to give him credit though- for refusing to drop his usual level of courteousness.

He simply ran a hand through his beard with obvious discomfort and looked around the shop for a moment before returning his gaze to her. As if there was something tangible in there that could explain her actions. Christ, she'd have loved that to be true more than he did.

She heard a "Well this is awkward," escape from Gold's mouth behind her and Ems cheeks flushed in response.

She wondered for a moment if the transition from her realm had allowed some beads of insanity to slip inside her brain. A crack in worlds for a crack the mind. Quid pro quo.

Nothing else seemed to make any sense...

"Thing is the shop has a...rat problem." She said suddenly. Apologetically. Words out of nowhere. "There's going to be pest guys here and inspectors within the hour. All the stocks got to be collated and stored before they do their thing so you won't be able to purchase anything for like a week at least. That's why I'm here, everyone knows how much I love signing off council paperwork."

"Oh." His eyes softened a little then. "I see."

What else could she do but go with the charade?

"Yeah it's a hassle but...health and safety you know."

He gave a soft chuckle at that, "And the best part of being Sheriff of a small town I'm sure."

She shrugged self-consciously, "That's why they pay me the big bucks."

Ems practically blew out the entire contents of her lungs as everyone stayed in position for another five then another ten seconds... but then finally, after peering around once more Robin tipped an imaginary hat to her and Gold before turning back to the doorway.

He was leaving.

_Christ._

As soon as his grey cotton shirt disappeared from behind the pane of glass in the old door, Emma sagged against the shelves next to her.

Gold evaluated her with undisguised interest. "Should I be taking _that_ personally?"

Waiting for the explanation. Or the next lie to come slip-sliding out.

"Because a small store like this relies on footfall Sheriff..."

Ems didn't turn. Didn't give him the pleasure of seeing the burning hue of her cheeks as she headed towards the door Robin had just exited through with panic in her step; mind rocking and reeling.

"It's complicated...I'll explain later ok?" she threw out with as much conviction as possible.

"I certainly hope so."

She pushed through the faded door before giving him another chance to speak and started sprinting down the street as fast as she could, wanting to get to Emma's, wanting to separate herself from the world ahead of whatever new breakdown might be coming.

The paving slabs were like hardened quicksand but she ran on through the morning cold, trying not to think. Trying not to jump to conclusions; hoping she wouldn't have to stop until she was there at the apartment, taking the chipped stairs two at a time and hammering on the front door. As if the devil himself were on her heels. As if maybe she was the devil and the running did nothing more than keep him from speaking.

She was so focused on her destination that she didn't see a black shape exiting a car parked up at the side of the road until it was too late and she collided with the shadowy figure, both of them grabbing onto the vehicle's side to keep from hitting the ground.

It was only when she looked up and started to apologize that she came face to face with blazing chocolate eyes and realised exactly who she'd run into...

TBC...


	6. Chapter 6

"What in God's...Miss... Swan!"...

Ems cringed at her own name hissed so openly in public, and glanced around to see if anyone had noticed anything out of the ordinary. The street was quiet however, empty except for the two of them sprawled clumsily against the curved wing of the parked car.

In probably the most graceless position the Mayor had ever found herself in, one boot in the gutter, the other tilted on its side.

Ems almost had the urge to laugh at the flustered look on the brunette's face but what with the snowstorm of worries already clogging up her mind and the fact that she was the quickest out of the two of them to get to her feet, she reacted on pure instinct and reached out a hand to balance the Mayor instead.

A hand that was immediately slapped away with venom.

Then molton eyes were boring into her own as Regina managed to pull herself up to her full height.

"What in the hell are you doing charging down the street Sheriff? Or weren't the hundred sorrys enough to assuage your guilt? You felt that a little daylight assault might help your case?

Out of breath and still undeniably spooked from the incident in Gold's shop Ems simply gawped at her as she tried to work out what she should say; what she _could_ say that wouldn't fuel the other woman's fury. More than anything she wanted to apologize, it was a hard seed in her gut begging to be purged but she'd seen the response that word had gotten Emma on Regina's porch and she didn't want to make things worse.

If that was even humanly possible at this point.

"Well?"

Ems caught the other woman's eye and clamping down the rest of her natural impulses forced herself to hold her tongue. She could feel the buzzing heat radiating off the woman next to her, a rage that seemed to grow brighter the longer she stood there like some lame-ass living statue and she knew she had to make a decision. So she did.

Throwing her hands up in what she hoped was a gesture of contrition Ems backed up a few steps until she was a hairs breadth away from the glass frontage of Ivan's grocery store. Giving Regina the only thing she could- space and silence; however alien those two things felt to her. And they surely did.

They were cold eyed gargoyles at her back but she offered them up nonetheless.

Not caring if Regina thought her insane or not.

It was only when she tried to suck in a breath that Ems suddenly found herself blinking back tears that had started collected at the corners of her eyes; tears she had no idea had even been building at the sight of the bitterly dishevelled Mayor_._

The whole thing was like grade school all over again.

_What the hell was wrong with her?!_

Christ, maybe she really was having some kind of breakdown.

"Oh are we a mute now Miss Swan?! Reverting into playing the idiot child, how impressive..."

The brunette was curling her mouth at her in that way she had back when they'd first met. When they had been enemies and not...not what?

Two women who'd shared enough horrors to start calling themselves...

She slammed the shutters down on that thought immediately. She had to do something. Something else. Regina was peering at her as if she really _was_ a mental patient and it was too much to handle.

All of this was too much.

And that was why she gathered together all her strength and nodded once. Briefly. Painfully. And then, before the next jibe came her way she pitched forward and did the only thing she could think of... Ems kissed Regina the way she'd always dreamed about. Not tentatively because she'd never imagined the brunette liking that romantic nonsense but not violently either. Her lips simply covered soft darker ones pressing against them with all the worry and desire she'd kept inside for what could have been years. With all the wonder and irritation the woman seemed to inspire in her.

Regina's lips barely moved against hers as Ems found herself lost in that soft not-quite-yielding mouth that was every bit as wonderful as she'd imagined; warm and oddly supple in the chill of the roadside. The kiss was chaste and a little hesitant which just seemed to add to the waves of warmth emanating from her stomach as she gently pushed the other woman against the car behind her.

But even through the haze of desire, she knew she should ask herself why. Why Regina didn't return the kiss. Or push her off the moment she felt a pair of lips on hers.

She was probably in shock. Or filled with revulsion and too politically savvy to shove Ems off in the middle of the streets. It wouldn't exactly look good for the town Mayor to be fending off a horny Sheriff.

Either way, as incredible as the kiss was Ems knew she couldn't bear to see the look in Regina's eyes once she broke away whatever it might say. No good would come of it.

So it was with one last affectionate peck to the scar on the Mayor's upper lip that she sighed under her breath and stepped back. Kept her gaze glued to the sidewalk.

Then she was off again, leaving the brunette alone in the empty street as she darted away.

She didn't care though, couldn't focus on what the other woman might be thinking. She couldn't handle the whirlwind of emotions coasting through her body right now and Regina's unending hostility was just one too many things to cope with. So she did what she always did best and ran.

Away from all the things she wanted to say and all the things she couldn't face. She just ran.

From Robin's bemused smile back in the shop that lingered in her mind and Regina's wounded rage.

She ran.

Back to Emma's apartment where she could hide from the world and all the horrors it seemed to throw up that she couldn't even begin to disentangle.

To the one place that made sense.

It was somewhat fitting that back at 108 Mifflin Street the otherworld Regina seemed to be facing her demons as well.

She knew that she shouldn't be doing what she was doing; knew that she was overstepping her bounds as little more than an unwanted guest but the temptation inside her was too strong to fight and as much as she hated to admit it, _any_ desire that cut through the amorphous fog coating her brain felt like a godsend right now.

A ray of light in mid-winter.

And besides, this was her house.

Well, not really _her_ house but a carbon copy except for the smallest mismatched details that only she would ever notice. If she bothered to take the time to detect them.

And well...let's face it, she had nothing but time at the moment.

Wandering through the plush receiving room she was well aware that she didn't need to run her finger along the cool burnished surfaces to know that not a single speck of dust would show up. No-one had ever said as much but back in her world she could tell by their faces that visitors had always assumed that she had some kind of maid surface in place... or if that wasn't the case that she spent all of her free time polishing each and every table top with absolute precision.

It wasn't the truth though.

That was much simpler. She'd simply picked each material used in her home with meticulousness, researching every furnishing and fitting in the search for the perfect material- something elegant, understated and most importantly dust-repellent. They weren't easy to find of course, but anything worth doing...

The Regina of this world had obviously done the same. She found herself smiling at the basalt marble fireplace she had stumbled across in an Alaskan workshop, appreciating the imperfectly freckled stone for the hundredth time. It was exactly the same as hers. Even gave off the same muted lustre where the copper pokers rested against its spine. Each with their own pale halo.

Guardian angels or so she'd always thought.

Only in her home they stood to the left of the fireplace rather than the right, their bulbous heads unwilling to loll or fall from attention.

_Interesting_.

Such a small thing.

But one that reminded her how lost she was right now.

Just for a moment, the brunette allowed herself to absorb the fractured reflections in the study letting them wash over her skin in all their whites and golds. Willing them to set light to a memory. To tell her what exactly she was doing in this place. To offer up a clue of some kind.

But even here, the response was as murky as ever beyond that familiar sense of threat she'd been carrying around with her since waking in this strange world and the Mayor gave a frustrated scowl as her eyes blinked shut.

_There's no point forcing the issue. The mind has its own motivations, dearie._

Rumple had told her that years ago back in the early days of their acquaintance. And as aggravating as it was to confess he was right, she'd never seen anything in her adult life that might contradict that particular pearl of wisdom.

So she would just have to wait.

Not that that was exactly her forte.

She sometimes found herself wondering what exactly her forte was these days.

Memoranda and flawless archiving probably.

A hell of a fall for a former queen.

Drifting through the room into the hallway, Regina decided to distract herself by cataloguing all the differences she could find throughout the mansion. Perhaps it was a childish game, useless and time wasting but something about the exercise whispered to her that it would be worth it. To utilise at least some part of her sleeping brain in the hopes that the rest might catch up. So she began by checking each and every photograph lining the hallway- each gilt frame. Their positions on the wall. The spaces between them. Between each version of her and Henry; the only two inhabitants that hung there albeit each of them with a slightly different hairstyle to mark the passing of time. Kindergarten- shoulder length for her, messy trim for Henry. Harvest festival -straightened and sleek. And one choppy bob from a few years ago that she couldn't believe she'd ever thought looked good.

They all seemed identical though to the ones in her memory though which was something of a disappointment. So she moved on.

Creeping along to the bottom of the staircase Regina snuck a quick glimpse at the door to make sure her counterpart was still out buying extra groceries for dinner then descended the first step with a brief sensation of disobedience. The banister was made of the same woven beech she'd imported from Vancouver and her hand rode the smooth handrail upwards skirting the gloss with barely a touch of the palm.

It was a strange thing to draw comfort from but that didn't stop her of course.

Twelve steps soon brought her to the upstairs hallway. It had always seemed like an appropriate number although she couldn't quite remember how so at the moment. There was some analogy buried there somewhere, down in the furrows of her brain but she tried her best not to pull on that thread as she paused for a moment in front of an imposing portrait taking up the majority of space on the wall to her right. Somewhat bizarrely she actually remembered having that commissioned in perfect detail. Sitting for hours on end in the alcove downstairs mid morning every day for a week, forcing her bones into what was supposed to be a natural position, her favourite tailored pant-suit sculpted to her frame just so as she offered the barest hint of a smile. It was the ultimate in artifice but she looked beautiful and imposing despite that and even Henry had liked the thing despite its size.

And yet... something wasn't quite right about this version.

Something was missing.

She couldn't quite put her finger on it, even as she leaned in close enough to see the swirl of russet oil and brushstroke on canvas. But something about the painting was...emptier than it should have been. Vacant where it should have been powerful.

What the hell was it?

She almost growled as her eyes moved in a rigid square following the maroons and beiges around the frame, rolling over each and every crest the brush had left behind but no epiphany came to relieve her. There was just a growing sense of dissatisfaction mounting inside her temples that ballooned with every second that she stood there until she couldn't stand it any longer and she swiftly took a step back away from the aggravating thing.

Whereupon she blew out a hot breath.

Then tried to collect herself turning her gaze away with a jerk of the head. Ignoring the rest of the artwork lining the corridor for fear they might just push her over the edge, she stalked forwards not even bothering to turn the lights on overhead as she went.

And it was only when she walked past the door to Henry's bedroom that she stopped abruptly in her tracks...

Frozen for a moment.

When she'd started this game, a large part of her mind had promised the rest that she would leave her son's room alone, that it belonged only to her hostess. That _that _would be where the line would be drawn even if no-one else knew about it.

And she so desperately wanted to hold to that promise. To that sense of modesty reminding her that she was still the woman she always had been- one with a basic level of decorum if nothing else. Cora Mill's daughter to the end.

But now that she was stood here...the door slightly ajar...the pull was irresistible.

Her hands clenched into fists.

She shouldn't. He wasn't her son and the secrets he kept in there weren't hers to uncover. Logically all of this was indisputable. Without question. But after staring at the painting moments ago there was a new sickly itch to her stomach that whispered how much she needed to see, needed a real link to the one person who mattered most. Something to fortify her in lieu of her actual memories.

She couldn't though...

But she had to.

There was nothing else to cling to...

_Oh Gods._

Pressing the hardwood door so that it pushed open a centimetre she stood firm for a moment. Ramrod straight but wavering on the inside. She then took that step closer, letting her toes cross from maroon carpet onto brown. An inch. An inch that meant nothing.

One that certainly didn't mean she was going to...

With another shove of the door, the room opened out in front of her and the decision was made. With a great deal of shame and bile following in its wake but made nevertheless.

The room was tidier than she remembered with the only clothes out of place being a t-shirt hanging half out of the chest's top drawer. Everything else was neatly piled on shelves; comics, soft toys and graphic novels balanced next to a Newton's cradle and a small folksy dream-catcher. The haphazard jumble of belongings instinctively brought a faint smile to her face and although no real memories came bursting through, something intangible did seem to be casually wafting its way through her lungs warming them as she'd hoped it might.

Henry. All mussed hair and shrugging shoulders.

The only thing she'd done right in her entire life.

Just as she had downstairs, the brunette began tiptoeing around the room, coasting the spines of all the books with her fingers picturing the hundreds of times Henry had dragged them out of position and started thumbing through them. Unaware of how perfectly _him _they had become the more he did so. Alice Through the Looking Glass was there but no Alice in Wonderland. Lord of The Flies. The Hobbit. Swallows and Amazons. A veritable treasure trove of fantasy on display.

She paused for a moment to tuck the grey t-shirt back into the drawer then shut it with a gentle schlock as she turned her head and took in the array of gels and spot creams stood so offhandedly on the dresser. Her little man really _was_ growing up. A weak twinge in her chest seemed to bloom at the thought and the brunette absent-mindedly massaged the skin over her heart as she scanned the rest of the room's contents. Shoes lined up military style underneath the window-sill, a couple of warm woollen scarves hanging from the bedstead.

The urge came out of nowhere to peek under the bed, perhaps to spot that irritating story book he'd put away so many years ago and she was quicker than she should have been to indulge it, crouching down to get a glimpse of shadowy carpet. The leather bound creature was nowhere to be seen of course, he hadn't needed it for a year or two now but there _was_ something there, wedged back almost underneath the headboard. And she had to know what it was. Stretching an arm out until she was almost half under the bed herself, her fingers grasped the edge of a hardback book and dragged it from its hiding place.

_Hmmm._

She had no idea if she'd ever seen the volume before but the fact that it had no discernable front cover was enough to pique her interest. Flicking it open to the first page she recognised Henry's scrawled name at the top written in blue biro.

Henry Mills.

Another pang rippled through her chest as she flipped again.

The next page was blank.

The third too.

So it wasn't a novel as she'd thought. Not fiction or fantasy at all. It was a notebook; probably one he'd intended to sketch in when it had dropped down the back of the bed and he'd never even noticed was missing.

Yet another sacrifice on the alter of good intentions. She knew a thing or two about that and it made her more than a little melancholy that her son seemed to be following in her footsteps.

Regina was just about to close the empty journal and put it back where it had come from when she decided to turn one more page for curiosity's sake. After all he would have done the same.

And that was when her son's familiar looped handwriting made another appearance, branded in the middle of the white sheet and her eyes devoured the passage within seconds.

Long is the night

Longer still when you realise it comes from you

That when your eyes close and the mind drifts there is no dawn or dusk

Just grey

Endless grey until you wake

Finally wake and throw gold and green on whatever your eye touches.

The world is ours and we are the world.

You are the one that makes it shine.

She found herself almost frozen in place; the beauty and simplicity of the words he'd written taking her completely aback. She'd had no idea Henry was into poetry, either reading it _or _writing it. Wasn't aware of any poetry anthologies she'd ever given him from her own collection. Hell, she'd never even seen him wander past the poetry section in the library in all the times they'd been there. He'd always headed straight for the fantasy and adventure shelves.

And all of a sudden those few innocent lines seemed to drive an overwhelming sense of homesickness into her. Homesickness and nostalgia.

The sheer strength of the two sensations stole all the air from her lungs as she sat back on her heels, trying to hold the book steady in shaking hands. Aware, oh so aware that she shouldn't be reading this but too desperate not to go any further. Because ...because what if her Henry _didn't_ write these things, what if the idea had never crossed his mind? Would she think less of him for not producing such wonderful words? Or more because he contained these things inside and kept them safe from the world; safe even from her and undiluted?

And if she ever actually managed to find her way home how could she even bring it up without making her own son feel smaller than he was before, compared to some faceless version of himself he'd never meet?

She had no answers to these awful questions though it didn't stop them from bombarding her mind. And even though she knew it would do nothing but make things a million times worse, she let her fingers frantically flip to another page where she came across an even shorter piece scratched out in his wonderful blue hand.

If hands burn then tears follow.

If we descend to dirt it steals our breath.

Elemental beings convinced we may be more

Than fire, water earth and wind.

Shouldn't that be enough though?

_Shouldn't that be enough?_

Every sinew in Regina's body shuddered kneeling there at the side of Henry Mill's bed leaching lactic acid and guilt. Guilt at invading this young boy's space. Shame at using a child, to bolster her during her darkest moments. Both emotions liberally tinged with doubt that this would be the last time that would happen. She had to gulp in air in a vain attempt to try fill her lungs again as she screwed her eyes shut. The room was starting to spin and she barely noticed the book falling out of her grip onto her lap, lost as she was in the swirling patterns behind her eyelids. It would be so easy...to just curl up here and wait for her host's wrath when she got home, laying in a pit of her own endless loathing. Perhaps she'd even understand... although the ache in her stomach told her that was unlikely. _She_ wouldn't understand if the tables were turned. If she found another Regina in her son's bedroom however pathetic they might look she'd lose any control she'd once had and order the other woman out of her home. Cast her out in a fit of fire and righteousness.

Because no-one played the role of protective mother like Regina Mills.

It was the one role she'd been born to play.

_They'd _been born to play.

Her own words spiralled back at her all of a sudden. She pictured herself inhabiting the other position in that scenario grabbing the ends of dark hair, dragging a stuttering interloper out from her son's room, his safe haven and down the stairs barely caring if any ankles got broken on the way. She could see it all; she would be flame and iron. As it was she could practically taste the two things sliding into each other on her tongue.

And it felt good. Felt strong.

Almost as if it were a memory not a flight of fancy. At least close enough to one to send a wave of strength surging through her flesh reawakening the cramp in her heels and highlighting the utter utter ludicrousness of her condition.

_What the hell was she doing?_

She wasn't the pleading useless Regina in any lifetime she'd ever lived up until now, she was the _victor_. Bruised and battered at times but very much alive with a son whose every drop of love she had earned. Sleepless nights and skinned knees as penance.

Blinking as she forced her eyes open, the Mayor of a Storybrooke far far away from this one knitted her brows as she looked down at the innocuous journal resting on her thigh. It was such an innocent thing. And one that brought her closer to her son though it might have been in a way she had never expected - wasn't that the very thing she'd hoped for when she had pushed the door open? She'd found her boy. Found a piece of him he didn't show the rest of the world.

And here she was twisting it and tainting it with all her stupid fears rather than drawing strength from the pages contained inside.

It was... unhealthy.

Juvenile even...

Her back straightened. It was also stopping right the hell now.

Picking it back up by the cover Regina opened out the spine and swiftly read through the two poems again, savouring them in a different way than she had the first time, letting their colours and sounds paint the backs of her eyes. Letting Henry's thoughts calm her mind.

She swept to the next page.

And the next, devouring the odd lines and couplets that spread out across the paper. Learning more about her son and his intricate thoughts on kindness and youth.

She was halfway through the journal before she'd even stopped for a break.

There were no dates next to any of the pieces she'd read so far but she could practically see the growth of the mind behind them as the adjectives became longer, the juxtapositions became more complex. It was a glorious thing to witness but this time she didn't falter, didn't think of it as her own Henry versus this one, she simply focused on the honesty and curiosity laid bare at her fingertips that she knew so well. Let it wash over her until nothing existed around her but the book.

White and blue. Her and her son alone against the world.

...

...

It was only when she heard the distinctive click of the front door latch echo downstairs that her eyes widened and she realised just how long she had spent wandering the world through her son's words. Sneaking a glance at the window she saw the mid-day sun shining inwards and her stomach almost dropped into her shoes.

It had to be almost half twelve if her calculations were correct which meant that she was going to have to give some kind of account of how she'd spent the last few hours.

Pulling herself quickly to her feet despite the loud protest from her calves Regina was just formulating some easy lie and closing the book ready to secrete it back in its hiding place when she accidentally caught something out of the corner of her eye. Something written in a darker ink on one of the last few pages of the diary- in thick bold lines rather than spidery handwriting she had come to love. And despite the threat of her hostess appearing at any moment for one last time Regina couldn't help herself. She opened the book to the offending page and stared down at the strange charcoal drawing of an amulet. In horror this time rather than pride.

At am image that sent lightning bolts of dread straight through her ribs.

Carved out in heavy lines the etched jewel glistened with a strange malice which would have been enough to stop her in her tracks on a normal day but it was the three words printed underneath in angry black writing this time that truly chilled the underneath of her skin.

**Invidiamon est Gloriacus**

Even if she had understood them before, she had no idea what the words meant now but something about them picked at her memory murmuring to her of darkness and all its insidious pieces. They were associated with something sinister and malevolent she was sure of it.

Something that this world's Henry seemed to have gotten caught up in.

Her throat almost closed at the thought, at the idea of Regina's kind hearted son messing around with such devastating forces but before she could do anything else, before she could even look for another clue to what the words might mean the clearing of a throat interrupted her reverie and she looked up to find her counterpart standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips and wild eyes trained directly on her.

"What the _hell_ do you think you're doing?"

And just like that very lie she could think of fell unceremoniously from her mind.

TBC...


End file.
